


Resolve

by calla_lilalma



Category: Black Clover - Tabata Yuki (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Canon Universe, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, M/M, Missing Scene, Pre-Canon, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26703949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calla_lilalma/pseuds/calla_lilalma
Summary: The conflict might have begun, escalated and climaxed on the forever memorable Hot-Blooded Tuesday- but it truly ended on a forgettable, untitled day.
Relationships: Mereoleona Vermillion & Fuegoleon Vermillion, Nozel Silva/Fuegoleon Vermillion
Comments: 11
Kudos: 46





	Resolve

**Author's Note:**

> I'm afraid to open and work on my wips so I made something small and new.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :D

Fuegoleon wakes after what feels like a century’s long slumber.

Slowly blinking the heavy drowsiness away, he finds himself looking at the ceiling of his room. He attempts to sit up, only for his whole body to lock down and the shock to lay him back down. Looking around, he’s alone and the door is closed, silence on both sides.

He breathes in and out, slowly fully coming to. Remembers what happened last.

_Right. Him seeing red and challenging Mereoleona. Her accepting. The fight. The adrenaline and exhilaration that coursed through him during. The taste of blood and pain of his muscles as he gave and took hits. The anger and exhaustion that came after as his vision blurred and then darkened completely right before he lost consciousness._

With a furrow of his brow, he ignores his muscles’ loud protests and sits up properly this time. He throws the covers off him.

All his injuries have been healed; no cuts, no fractures, nothing. Now that he notices, his nose doesn’t pour rivers of blood or is broken. And he definitely knows the feeling of a black eye and bruised ribs that’s not present. Looking at hands, his knuckles have no cuts, showing only past breaking of the skin.

It must have been Lady Teresa’s work; she’s the most expert healer in the Vermillion estate and she always tended to his wounds, with and without magic alike, for the past years she’s been teaching them.

And if that is true… a foreboding shiver runs down his spine.

Too high-strung to wait for his execution, he leaves the bed and exits the room, looking for anyone coming around, only to fortunately find the hallway empty.

Still on the lookout, he heads to the central stairs, just in time to see his sister doing the same from her room in the opposite wing.

They stare each other searchingly, at their lack of wounds.

Mereoleona scoffs at him. “Want me to break your nose again, damn brat?”

Fuegoleon grits his teeth, “Can you shut up without having your jaw broken?” he retorts.

“Huh?” His sister growls, teeth bared in a manic grin, “You wanna go for a second round, you loser?!”

“Let’s settle this.”

Ηe steps closer, entering fighting position. Mereoleona mimics his movement as well.

A clearing of the throat and an all too familiar mana cracking like thunder stops them both on their tracks and turn to look at Lady Teresa’s stern, hardened features.

Just by her scorching glare they straighten up and silences them both. “Come with me.” She orders, turns her heel and doesn’t look back to see if they follow.

They are led to the dining room, where his mother and father are. They promptly stop their conversation when they see them, their features becoming exasperated and stern, like all the times their children have caused trouble.

“Sit down and eat. You’ve been unconscious for two whole days. Then will talk.” It sounds grimmer than usual, and alarm bells ring in his mind.

Both Mereoleona and Fuegoleon have no choice but to obey with dread looming over them.

* * *

It takes him five minutes and twenty seconds to carry a bag of cement. Eleven minutes and three seconds for a cart full of bricks. If he runs, it takes about half those times but it’s not beneficial to his long-term stamina. One more thing to add to the list to train upon once he completes his sentence.

He can’t help but huff in pride when he sees that his tower of bags is larger than his sister’s but refuses to look at her beyond what’s necessary cooperation and starts counting again.

The workers were more than a bit tense when they saw that the two Vermillion siblings would help with the reconstruction of the estate properties they ruined, even more so when the climate between them was cold with indifference and scorching with vivid hostility simultaneously. But their quick and efficient work for the past two days didn’t leave much room for discomfort and complaints. In fact, it is estimated that the estate will be fixed in half the time planned.

Fuegoleon sighs for the umpteenth time, counting solemnly in his head, except he can’t help but throw a glare at his sister when he spots her bright hair from the corner of his eye.

Unfortunately, she catches him and her brow twitches in irritation as she snarls at him, “What you looking at?”

Fuegoleon bites the inside of his cheek hard, his words turning into a long indignant sigh through his nose. Carries the bag faster than normal, messing up with his counting.

“You mad your boyfriend was locked away?” she taunts and before either of them knows it, he has thrown the entire bag at her, Mereoleona splits it apart it without a second thought and cement gets into her pants and boots.

“And whose fault is that?” he hisses.

His sister’s face contorts to something more bitter now, just like his is, “Oh, cry me a river! I can’t use my goddamn grimoire because of you!” she picks up a brick and throws it at him with all her might too. Fuegoleon dodges; it misses his face but just enough for one of its corners to cut to his cheek.

“Because of _me_?!”

“You’re the one that wanted the damn fight!”

“Don’t speak like I _dragged_ you into it!”

He can feel himself reaching his limit and getting ready to destroy all the progress they made this past week, fists clenching and mana controlled by mere threads to not fully clash with her completely unrestrained one, lion paws forming like tendrils and ready to pounce at him.

“Both of you watch it!”

From a window above Teresa yells at them, observing them like a hawk its prey for any openings. He can’t help but feel like a child under her scrutiny.

“Isn’t one month enough for you? Do you want me to make it two?” her sharp gaze undoubtedly catches them shaking their heads stiffly before she is out of their sight. But never out of their mind.

After exchanging one last bitter glare, they each return to their tasks, ignoring each other’s existence. But their movement’s still show that agitation, their fast steps and the rough movements, until Fuegoleon’s anger slowly simmers to something less intense but less pleasant too.

He can’t wait for this goddamn month to end, to leave the estate he’s gotten so sick of. Never talk to his sister again. See his lovely boyfriend that he’s been grounded not to see for thirty-one torturous days. He wonders if Nozel thinks about him, misses and wants to see him as much.

* * *

“Well?” Lady Teresa presses on, hands on her hips, foot tapping impatiently, “Need I extend the punishment?”

Both his sister and him are standing at attention, in different states of messy. The muddy water makes his hair and clothes cling disgustingly to him while Mereoleona is covered from head to toe in paint.

They’ve been passive aggressively making their days even more painful, minor ‘incidents’ and words, all the while looking around and over their shoulder’s for Teresa’s keen eyes.

However, Fuegoleon has been feeling especially mad today, after spending his birthday alone surrounded by four walls while he could be enjoying it on a date with his cute boyfriend before they attend the small party full of family members and close friends. But everything was cancelled as part of the punishment and the only company he has is his sister, their parents retracting their rare day off to attend missions.

The urge to pour the paint from the high place he was working on when he saw the opportunity came in a flash of bitterness too strong to not abide to. But he was not the only one with frustrations to act upon. His dear sister’s celebration for receiving her grimoire was also cancelled and instead she held in her hands for a couple of seconds before it was locked away, along with her ever present distaste for their home and still being here. It’s no surprise he finds himself soaked in muddy waters from plumbing pipes as retaliation.

They get caught, as they expected. And now the interrogation has arrived, Teresa’s words accusatory but not judging until admittance or lies, ready to strike heavy like a court’s gavel.

They remain silent at Lady Teresa’s question, not wanting incriminate themselves and live more of this hell. But the silence is an answer on its own, and his teacher knows them both since they were little children, has learnt to read them like the pages of her grimoire.

At this point Fuegoleon feels tired and lonesome, and waits for the extension of this isolation with a tense jaw and heavy heart, and damningly burning eyes. But that would not be solely his own burden; she’ll stay here longer, rethink her decision smartly.

Or at least, he would believe that if it were anyone else. Right now, he’s just fooling himself and runs circles around the truth.

Then, Mereoleona catches him off guard, as she has always done, “It was an accident.” She says with a straight face and an even voice, head raised high. “I was pissed and screwed up something.”

Her glance at him and her rare tensity of her shoulders is obvious to him. Her plead is loud and clear and he has never seen her like that, shallowing her pride. He would believe that extension of punishment would be more pleasant than asking for help. Asking _him_ for help.

He doesn’t waste time before responding, words tumbling out his tongue before the doubts and anger can obstruct them. “It was an accident on my part as well. I was too focused on my task that I knocked the paint can.” He hates lying, especially to someone he admires so much, but he is not above it when the desperate need strikes him.

And this feels like their lives are depending on this lie. So he serves his words as absolute truth.

Lady Teresa stares and stares, burns holes through them so much that doubt spreads in his chest, makes his heart beat faster.

Then she sighs, “Very well then. I am glad it wasn’t a fight this time. But make sure those accidents don’t become coincidences.” Only when she is out of sight and then a lot more do they dare relax and exhale their relief.

When they are left alone, the air feels different, drastically changed. They silently go to their rooms and no doors slamming shut echo the Vermillion estate.

* * *

It’s a beautiful night he finds himself looking at. The sky is dark and starry but the window of his room doesn’t feel like it gives it justice. Though the highest roof of their estate is and the act of sneaking out is a perfected plan. He needs to feel the chilly midnight breeze and outside before he suffocates.

Ideally, he’d sneak out of the estate, to the Silva mansion where there is a view even more perfect, but leaving the premises will be counterproductive.

He’s not perturbed to feel his sister’s mana approaching and her joining him. There are no words exchanged, each deep in their own thoughts- yet still communicating each other’s presence. Her being here, within reach is a constant and despite hating that constant the past few days, years’ worth of familiarity and comfort are impossible to do away with in the span of few days.

“Missing your bride?” she teases, that too so familiar.

He still flushes scarlet with embarrassment, “Will you please finally let it go?”

“Never.” Is her quick response, “I’ll tell the story of how you told Dad he’s your bride after meeting him once on your wedding day for everyone to hear.”

He refuses to look at her shit-eating grin, “Well, that won’t happen.” He laments, “We’ve been together for two months and one of them I spent grounded and forbidden from any visits. I screwed everything up. He’ll definitely break up with me.” Each day passing makes him more and less eager to see him, his reaction. People have already made noise about their fight, have given that day the apt name of ‘Hot-Blooded Tuesday’. He grimaces.

“Don’t sweat it.” she waves him off. From her light tone, she is enjoying every second of this. Of course she does. “He already knows you’re an idiot and he still likes you. You wrote a stupid poem too-”

“It wasn’t stupid!” he exclaims in a knee jerk reaction, covering his face with his palms. He had spent hours on making that as a confession gift, using the few ounces of talent in literature, all his knowledge in what books Nozel enjoys reading and many crunched papers.

All his effort was worth it in the end, for Nozel’s rosy blush and smile spreading across his face and neck were of the most beautiful things he’s ever witnessed in his life.

“It was the most disgusting thing I’ve read in my life.” Mereoleona says, “But he agreed to date you. He’s in this for life. You two deserve each other.”

Fuegoleon glances at her from the corner of his eye, “You think so?”

Her glare of condescension could rival Lady Teresa’s in its repulsion. Thankfully Fuegoleon has grown immunity to it.

While the image of Nozel and him getting married and spending their lives together is tempting, it threatens to overtake his mind when there is something more pressing to address. Something that looms over them both, with a countdown of less than a fortnight left before it changes their relationship forever, without possibility of full repair.

After beats of silence, runs a hand through his unkempt hair and musters up his pride.

“Sorry about your grimoire.” She’s been waiting for this for a long time. Both of them have. Fuegoleon himself can’t wait for the moment he’ll touch the spine of his own, ran his fingers into the anaglyphs and open the pages that will make sure will be filled with spells.

Despite obviously being angry about it, she has let off some of that steam as she waves him off, “It’s no big deal. Some more days now won’t make much difference. Knowing that I have it makes it easier than when I didn’t. Everything is ready, all it needs it packing.”

“Do you really want to leave?” It comes out quieter than he wished, horrendously resembling a pouting child.

Mereoleona nods curtly, “I’ve thought about it for a long time.”

“Everything is here.” _I am here_ , he doesn’t say but his complain is as good as heard.

Mereoleona is surprisingly silent and he waits for her to explain why they are not enough for her.

“It might be, for you.” At hearing her speak so softly. Fuegoleon stares at her, expression serious and determined. Her gaze seems far away, longing for the places that she has yet to discover. “We both know what paths we want to walk on. Yours is here, mine is out there.” her lips press into a thin line.

She turns to him, small and tired smile straining her lips upwards, “You were the one that could look the future in details, like it was something so easy and achievable. I’m not interested in leading people. If I stay, you’ll keep walking ahead and I’ll keep staring at your back five steps behind.”

Her words leave him wide eyed and perplexed. All this time he believed, and still believes he’s the one that stared at her back, struggling to keep up with her force.

“But if you had chosen to become a Magic Knight, the captaincy of the Crimson Lions and the throne would be within your reach-”

“The captaincy and throne are things you want. You’ve always been starry-eyed when Mom and Dad took you to the barracks. Took your studies so seriously. They’ll be better off under your hand.”

“I didn’t want it like this.” He admits, “I wanted to challenge you for the captaincy when I believed I was strong enough.”

“But you did. Didn’t think you had the gall to pick a fight so suddenly. Of course I’d accept!” she laughs merrily.

He groans, “That’s different-”

“No it’s not.” She cuts him off, reaching to hit his shoulder with remarkable force. “It was the most fun I had in ages! Despite all the bad shit, I don’t regret it” she laughs. “You made it hard to want to leave.” She admits, awkwardly rubs the back of her neck. “So thanks, for the memorable fight. Won’t be easy to top it.”

“But it didn’t convince you.” He states with a visible hint of sadness. Mereoleona shakes her head. His attempt to tame her wild spirit were futile from the start, but a foolish part of him clang to the hope, clang to her.

“I want to see it all. The mana zones, the strong opponents, the nature, the hunt. Explore and get stronger. And when I get bored to death of all of that, I’ll piss off my boring, too serious of a little brother into fighting me again. Knock the brat down some pegs.”

His mind provides him for reasonable responses that he’d normally say. That he won’t indulge her catastrophic whims, that he’ll be busy with his quest to be a great captain and a great Magic Emperor but none feels appropriate.

Despite everything, the fight was fun for him too. The rush of facing such a strong opponent is indescribable. No wonder Mereoleona is one of his most valued rivals; he’ll be chasing the thrill of this fight for years to come.

In the end, he speaks what his heart is roaring with excitement.

“Bring it.”

* * *

Long thin fingers, with skin broken by fresh callouses reach to his forehead and delicately trace around the new, still sensitive mark.

Fuegoleon suppresses the shiver wracking through him, “Does is look bad?” he asks, believing he successfully hid any hints of the anxiety he feels poisoning him from within, his own fingers reaching to cover it.

Nozel swats his hand away before he does so, pretty orchid eyes giving him their full attention and smooth pink lips pressed in thought.

“Simply new. What does it mean?”

“It’s only allowed for those in our family taking the vow to be the Magic Emperor.” It’s been generations since a Vermillion enforced the archaic tradition but it had spoken to Fuegoleon’s core, resonating deeply with it. Despite feeling novel, it also feels right.

Nozel hums and his eyes become sharper in their focus. “Does it hurt?”

Fuegoleon is not quick to reassure them that it’s not, that the skin has fully healed and been tended to, but it’s a blessing in disguise because those perfect lips touch his forehead right on the mark and _stay_ there for more than a fleeting moment, and his whole being vibrates, his heart pounding. It craves to be released from its cage and go to their true home that it Nozel’s hands.

He’s left slack-jawed, words dead and long forgotten, watching in awe the crimson blooms on his boyfriend’s sharp cheekbones, ascend to his ears and descend to his neck.

Only when Nozel averts his gaze from his does Fuegoleon regain the ability to speak, for the sake of having it on him again. “Will you kiss me again if I say it does?”

“I’d say you deserve it; doing something so shameless and wasteful.” Is the rapid scalding response, “We all know I’ll be the Magic Emperor.”

The tone is coy and confident and he never knew he could harbor such impossible fondness for one person inside him. Unable to contain it, he lays his head to Nozel’s shoulder, the most heavenly place to be and roots himself in place.

Nozel huffs in exasperation but makes no move to shove him away, instead choosing to shyly play with his fingers, lacing them together.

“Is it alright?”

“Hm?” he doesn’t open his eyes, basks in the moment.

“Not seeing Mereoleona off this morning. She visited this morning to say goodbye to Mom. And told me I have bad taste in literature.”

Fuegoleon groans pitifully, turns and nuzzles on Nozel’s pale unblemished neck, refuses to answer until the grip on his hand squeezes with painful intent.

“I’ve had enough of her for the past month and the past years.” He says. “And it’ll not as if she’s gone forever.” He had learnt that from the beginning their parents had not let Mereoleona waltz out the capitol for years on end and had set some conditions. For the following years, she must send letters every fortnight, return for at least a week every four months. Should any of those be broken they’d personally go out to retrieve her. After that, nothing will hold her back, but Fuegoleon knows her ties to home are strong.

She’ll undoubtedly be here for his own grimoire reception celebration, and most likely return the challenge to spar as retaliation. He just hopes he nothing like this happens again. Staying away from Nozel after having him always within reach will be a death sentence.

In the meantime, he steals a kiss from those petal-soft lips, “Now that she’ll be gone, we can go to my room freely without fearing if someone will barge in.” He whispers to his ear conspicuously, laying his head on Nozel’s lap, watching from his new angle how his eyes widen incredulously, how pink his skin shines and speechless.

Now he retracts his previous statement- this is the real most heavenly place he could be. The fairly painful tug of his hair is a valid price to pay.

Looking up at Nozel, relishing in the feeling of his hair now being aggressively played with by those deft fingers and the roots of his resolve to never take a step without him on that path dig deeper.

When he closer his eyes, lulled by the chirping birds, the sound of the wind and slowly gentler touches, behind his eyelids is a complicated path, full of obstacles but also full of details, with seductive goals like the sound of wedding bells and the smell of a mahogany office. The mark on his forehead feels warm, as do all the places fingertips caress him.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried my best to balance writing them as teens while also maintaining their core personalities. Also some practice in dialogue, which might be my weakest thing to write. I believe I did well on all accounts, but that's just me lol  
> Anyway, this really came out of the blue, after wondering who won the hot-blooded Tuesday and thinking that oof the property damage, someone will have to fix that.  
> Also if Mereoleona had stayed, Fuegoleon would definitely be Nozel's trophy husband bless.
> 
> Tumblr: [callalilalma](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/callalilalma)
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3 :D


End file.
